When I was a little girl, my mother often took me to visit my grandmother. She’d lead me into her room, smiling as if to share a secret, and unwrap a few candies just for me. It felt like treasure, sweet and safe. Years later, she does the same with my daughter, guiding her into that same room. I listen from the hallway, hearing the rustle of wrappers and soft laughter. It’s not really about candy, it’s about love passed down quietly, a tenderness that never fades, even as the world changes.